


The Freeze Out

by rodofatos



Category: Dota 2
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 23:55:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13469313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodofatos/pseuds/rodofatos
Summary: Auroth gets a little too confident when she confronts the Night Stalker.Older piece I dug up from the grave.





	The Freeze Out

The sky was clear that cold winter day, with nary a cloud in sight for miles. Occasionally, a bird or two could be seen soaring through the air, but at some time in the middle of the day a majestic wyvern appeared in the blue. Not just any wyvern, though. It was none other than Auroth the Eldwurm, surveying the land she claimed as her domain. She was circling around the woodlands in search of inspiration, hoping to find some dramatic material for her next great work.

So far today, though, she hadn't found a single thing of note to write about. And this is after she lowered her standards -- she had started out the day dreaming of detailing an epic battle between two great warring factions, and by now she'd settle for a limerick about a funny goblin. But, alas, it seemed there would be no poetry today. It seemed everything was hiding from the harsh weather. Grumbling to herself, the wyvern made one last turn before she began her descent.

She was coming closer and closer to the treetops, on the way to her icy cavern, when out of the corner of her eye she noticed something in the leafage. She halted, and kept herself afloat as she tried to focus on the figure in the treeline.

It was purple, she could tell that much, and seemed to be alive, though barely moving. What sort of creature would hide themselves up there? Auroth thought to herself. Whatever it was, she hoped that it was ripe with potential for a poem.

The wyvern flew a little lower, careful not to make too much noise with her wings. She didn't want to scare it off, of course. As she got closer to the purple beast, though, she drew in a sharp breath with the sudden realization of the figure she now recognized.

Balanar.

The Night Terror, the beat of bedtime stories, alone and asleep up north in the woods. Now Auroth was not only wondering why he was up in the trees, but in the forest at all. Was he looking to prey on those who lived where she ruled? The wyvern scowled. This was her territory, and she was going to prove it.

With a deep inhalation, Auroth prepared a blast of ice to launch from her maw. She wasn't intending to kill him, of course, just knock him to the ground where he wouldn't pose a threat to her.

She blew, and a stream of cold wind hit the Night Stalker square in the arm. “Daaaugh!” he shouted as he fell from the branch, waving his arms in a comical faction. Moments later, he collided with the ground with a loud flomp. Auroth couldn't contain herself, and burst out laughing at the sheer spectacle. 

The terrible, fearsome Night Stalker, knocked from his perch by a simple blast of ice. It was almost poetic in itself. Still snickering, Auroth swooped down to just above ground level, where she saw Night Stalker lying prone and helpless on the snow below.

He gave his wings a few pathetic flaps, only causing the wyvern to laugh harder. “You… you call those wings, Balanar?” she asked, gasping for air. “A hatchling is born with better!” She wheezed, barely able to keep herself afloat.

“Auroth!” the Night Stalker barked, trying to turn himself around, “What do you think you're doing?”

“What am I doing?” the wyvern repeated, trying to regain her composure, “Why, Balanar, isn't it obvious? This is my forest, and I want you out of it.”

“Your forest?” the Night Stalker asked incredulously. “You mean to say all of it belongs to you?”

“Of course, Balanar,” Auroth purred, no longer laughing. “The forest, the lakes, the sky, the entire icy north is my dominion. And you're... not… welcome,” she hissed.

Balanar tried to flap his wings again, causing the wyvern to stifle a giggle. “Well, bookwyrm,” he growled, “I may not be welcome in your territory… but you're not welcome during my time.”

“What?”

The Night Stalker’s head lurched upwards, and his terrifying mouth opened wide with a sound Auroth had thought only demons could make. The sky darkened instantly, and the moon could be seen through the clouds in the horizon. Suddenly, Auroth realized she had made a very bad mistake.

She began to fly up and out of the forest, but she felt the tight grip of a talon grasp one of her lower legs. “Oh, oh!” she cried out as she toppled to the ground, clawing desperately at the air to no avail. She felt the talon let go of her momentarily before repositioning itself right on her neck. Before she knew it, the Night Stalker was right on top of her with a gruesome grimace on his face.

“You didn't think I'd just get up and leave, did you, bookwyrm?” Balanar sneered, his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a wild beast. “You said the whole icy north belonged to you… tonight, bookwyrm, you belong to me.”

Auroth's eyes widened as she realized what the Night Stalker was about to do. “Balanar, no!” she cried out as best she could with a claw on her throat. “I… I didn't…”

“Didn't think I'd fight back, did you? Is that it, bookwyrm?” the Night Stalker yelled. “I'm going to put you in your place, wyvern -- under me.”

With one hand still firmly around Auroth's throat, Balanar used his other to tear away at the metal plating covering his lower body, revealing his massive, stiff penis, just inches away from the wyvern’s nether regions. The shaft was bulging in veins and covered in foreskin, a deeper purple than the rest of Balanar’s body. It was twitching with excitement as the Night Stalker lowered it closer and closer to the wyvern's tight pussy.

“Oh, no. No, please…” Auroth whimpered.

Without a word, Balanar swiftly thrust his dick inside of Auroth, making her scream out in pain. Her cries were shortly silenced as the Night Stalker used his free hand to grasp her scaly muzzle.

“Not another word out of you, bookwyrm,” he growled, “or I'll make sure it'll be your last.”

The wyvern nodded, or at least tried to. Balanar groaned and retracted his cock before slamming it into the wyvern again. She resisted the urge to let out a how as she desperately tried to think of something -- anything -- that could get her out from under the Night Stalker.

The Night Stalker kept thrusting his cock in and out of Auroth's wet cunt. She hadn't had sex with anything but elder dragons before, and it had been many years since her last encounter with one of them. Though their dicks were large, they were sheathed and tapering, like most other animals. Balanar, though, was a different experience entirely. His straight, thick cock wasn't meant to fit in a delicate wyvern’s pussy, and she had never felt the feeling of a fat pair of balls slapping against her scales. And the sound… Auroth could barely think with the Night Stalker panting and grunting above her as he vigorously kept pounding. 

She didn't like it at all, but all the wyvern could think about Balanar’s huge dick. It kept hammering, he kept moaning, she kept… thinking. Thinking about how she could ever live down the humiliation of being raped by the Night Stalker. How could she have been so foolish? Auroth, the Eldest Wurm, the great scholar and adventurer, reduced to nothing more than a fuck toy for the horrifying, mythical Night Terror. 

It still hurt. She thought she would have gotten used to the feeling, but the size of Balanar's rod was simply too much for her to handle. It was going to hurt until he stopped. Even then, the memory would still hurt long after.

The Night Stalker roared as he once more tightened his talons on Auroth's lithe body, and his cock froze in place as he shot a load cum inside of the wyvern’s body. The feeling was disgusting, as her insides were always cold and comfortable to her. Now, as Balanar pulled his dripping, limp dick out of her ravaged pussy, she was full of his awful, hot semen. 

Balanar finally released his hand from Auroth's muzzle, expecting her to cry out once more. She did not. “What's wrong, bookwyrm?” he asked softly, his voice dripping with venom. “Don't tell me you enjoyed that.”

“B-Balanar…” Auroth stammered in between deep breath, trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Yes?”

“I… you…”

“Well, since you won't tell me if you enjoyed that, tell me if you like this better.”

He extended his claws and brought them down upon one of Auroth's membranous wings. She shook, letting out a yelp of panic. “No! D-don’t!”

With one talon, he tore through the wing’s soft material as the wyvern trembled violently. She let out small whines, but didn't have the energy in her to cry out again. “No… no…” she repeated, unable to raise her voice any further. “Why…”

Balanar raised his hand back up and placed it on the wyvern's abdomen again, though he didn't grasp it this time. “You come out here and try to knock me down again, and it'll be the other one next time.” he snarled. “Got that, bookwyrm?”

Auroth could only nod her head.

The Night Stalker stood up on top of the wyvern, and looked down at her tear-soaked face. “I won't be back for you unless you come looking for me again, bookwyrm.” He flapped his wings once more, forcefully, and lifted himself off the ground. “Good night.”

With that, he flew into the sky, disappearing in the inky darkness above. Auroth stayed where she was, unable to get up, unable to keep her thoughts together. She had come out today to find a story, she thought, but nobody would want to read this one.


End file.
